


Do you ever kiss your own reflection

by Acciopencil



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Awkward Flirting, Drabble, First Kiss, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, POV John Watson, Roommates, about his roommate, he has a lot of thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-31
Updated: 2018-01-31
Packaged: 2019-03-12 01:41:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13536978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Acciopencil/pseuds/Acciopencil
Summary: “What?” Sherlock was now looking at him, and he was frowning. His hair stood out in big, dark curls from his face. They made his angular face look softer somehow, John guessed that made some kinda sense. He looked more approachable with them. Usually. Not right now though, as he was standing stretched like a bow, with his arms crossed across Spock’s face on his chest.A quick drabble: John has a hot roommate, and doesn't know how to deal.





	Do you ever kiss your own reflection

**Author's Note:**

> Alrighty! So, I wrote this some time ago at 4 in the morning. And, well, it shows! BUT I kinda like it and I hope you will too. (comments and kudos make my day)

Sherlock was at it again. Like every bloody day, he was glued to that stupid full-length mirror. Doing his hair, just looking, or whatever.

John didn’t really understand what the other boy was thinking, like sometimes he would just stare into space- no, not space. He would stare at something specific, that much John had learned from their time sharing a room. Just at that moment, Sherlock made a noise. A small one. Maybe he wasn’t even aware that he had made it? It didn’t matter. John slammed the drawer he had just opened to get a pair of fresh pants, shut with a bang.

Sherlock let his hands fall from his hair, they dangled at his sides awkwardly. He didn’t turn around to face John, still John knew he had his full attention. That didn’t matter though. John averted his eyes from mirror-Sherlock’s gaze, and walked to his bed with no real purpose. His feet made a lot of noise and John had to embarrassingly admit to himself that he was stomping around like a hissy-fitted toddler.

He picked up a book before throwing it to the other side of the bed, so he could sit. However, it collided with the wall with a great smack. His cheeks felt warm. John’s eyes inevitably went back to Sherlock. He had gone back to the hair, but John caught blue. He could feel the anger wash over him from behind. Like something disgusting creeping up his back, and- no, he was not going to get mad, why was he getting mad in the first place. Nononono. John threw his legs up onto the bed, and slipped into a comfortable position. Not before flinging the that bloody book on the floor, of course. He laid there for a while. Kinda looking, but also not looking at Sherlock. Not, before he moved away from the mirror, did John talk.

“Do you ever kiss your own reflection” he said, for some reason unknown. He had been looking at Sherlock for so long it had started to feel awkward. Saying something SHOULD have made it better but-

“What?” Sherlock was now looking at him, and he was frowning. His hair stood out in big, dark curls from his face. They made his angular face look softer somehow, John guessed that made some kinda sense. He looked more approachable with them. Usually. Not right now though, as he was standing stretched like a bow, with his arms crossed across Spock’s face on his chest.

“I would if I were you” John heard himself say. He had wanted to make things better? This wasn’t a compliment, what was that?

“John, what are you-“ Sherlock’s bottom lip was jutting out slightly. And how exactly could John tell? Right, because he was standing right in front of the bastard. When had that happened again?

“No, no, ehe, what I meant was-“ Why was he stammering? John, you idiot. “Please don’t be upset”.

Sherlock looked almost offended.

“I am not upset” he said glowering “I just don’t understand your question. Are you what?? Mocking me? Cause if that—”

“NO” John was LOUD, but he needed to make Sherlock see that that was the last thing he was doing. Why was this so complicated. “Why is everything with you so complicated” John heard himself say. And wow.

Sherlock pulled back. Drawing away. And that was the moment it dawned to john how close they were standing. Magnet, John thought.

“Oh, I don’t know, John” Sherlock said, like someone who knew exactly why. “Maybe because a being with your brain capacity cannot handle a lot of things happening at once”.

John just looked at him. Sherlock was obviously lashing out at him. Understandably. But usually his catty remarks were better than this.

“Oh, get that stupid look off your face” Sherlock said, his cheeks were a light red. Was he embarrassed? Why did that come like surprise to John… geniuses can get embarrassed. Big woop. But now John couldn’t help but wonder if they could get other things as well.

“Sherlock I-“ John started. What was he thinking?? why was his eyes LOOKING at lips? Like and that could not have been the first time either because that cupids bow looked way too familiar. Like a dream? Had he been dreaming about-

“John?”

John shook his head. And then he was back to blue. Blue which had no clue.

“Sherlock” John answered. He thinks… was there a question? Bloody hell.

There was quiet in the room, except for the old clock at Sherlock’s desk. And of course, that rushing sound inside of John’s body. He couldn’t help but wonder if Sherlock could hear it too. He sure seemed like someone who could here shit like that. With his eyes all staring and narrowed. Looking.

John soon started to curl into himself. It didn’t feel good to be looked at like that. By Sherlock. Probably not by anyone. It felt like he was something weird. Like a growth on a foot. Something Sherlock didn’t understand, but something that still intrigued him. It was John’s own participance that gave the feeling of something that needed to be cut off. Something that didn’t’ belong. What the hell was he talking about?

“I need to---” John drew away. He felt sad suddenly. Disappointed almost. For some reason. He shuffled backwards, scrambling for an excuse, before his foot hit something. He looked down and saw the book. He bowed down and picked it up. When he straightened up, Sherlock was close again.

“You can, you know” he said. Whispered softly.

John’s heart did a funny little swirl, and he felt the need to swallow hard.

“What?”

And then Sherlock kissed him.


End file.
